Conversations with a Hero
by Little Obsessions
Summary: "When she opened the door and he held his arms out she flew into them. She breathed in the scent of him; the smell of oranges and leather and the indefinable, clean smell of the palace." Joseph is always there for Mia.


**This is a (sort of) sequel to the story _Conversations with a Charmer_. I always wanted to know what happened to Michael and Mia - despite the fact that I was never interested in any other couple aside from Clarisse and Joseph.**

 **As with everything, none of the characters belong to me and there is nigh on a plot but if there was I suppose I could lay claim to that. I make no money from these stories.**

 **Thank you for reading. Please review.**

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Mia pulled the cell phone from her ear, glanced at the screen once more, and pressed number three on her phone. The instant dial tone sounded as she pressed it to her ear again. In the darkness of her room the glare from the screen was almost indecent. As soon as the gruff voice said 'Hello princess' on the other end of the line her eyes started to prickle with tears.

"I need you," she whispered through tears, "Joe, it's all fallen apart."

He said he'd be there within fifteen hours. He was there with thirty three minutes to spare.

When she opened the door and he held his arms out she flew into them. She breathed in the scent of him; the smell of oranges and leather and the indefinable, clean smell of the palace. He nodded to her detail to let him know that he could go and, having had to witness her trauma for the last few hours, Henri took off without so much as a glance.

"Shhhh," he comforted her softly, "I'm here. It's okay."

He closed the door behind them, then came into her room. She curled up on the sofa and sobbed again, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"Cry," he propelled her towards him and she cried into the cotton of his shirt, "You need to get this out…so cry."

She didn't ask about her grandma or about her country or about how much he knew. She just cried until she had no tears left and until the sun was painting Princeton in an amber light. When she had cried her tears out she lay down on the couch and fell asleep.

Hours later she awoke. He was sitting exactly where he had been when she fell asleep, watching her as she did so. He stood up when she was a bit more alert and began preparing them a coffee in the little kitchen. He pottered about, finding everything without having to ask.

"I could go something stronger," she whispered, eyeing him.

"If I had something stronger to give you, I would. But you should never drown your sorrows in the bottom of a bottle and anyway your grandmother would kill me. I gave your uncle and father their first ever beer; she nearly sacked me for it."

"But she has a soft spot for you?"

He didn't answer but she could see his smirk as he turned round, two mugs in his hands.

"You didn't tell her, did you?"

"No," he answered, "But I will have to."

"I know," she nodded, taking the mug he offered. He sat down beside her, pulling her against him again.

She felt infinitely more comforted and suddenly felt it could be solved. Joe fixed everything, always, for both of them.

"Where did you tell her you were going?"

"Spain," he said, "Told her my sister was unwell. I don't like lying to her Mia. I will tell her…as soon as we talk through this."

"Yes," she agreed, "I'm not comfortable with it either. I just wish he hadn't done it so…publically." She shook her head, "I knew it was over Joe. It had been over for a while. But to be caught doing that…" she motioned her head towards the laptop, as if it was an obscenity.

"Another girl? How does that make me look?"

She struggled to keep the anger from her voice.

He shook his head, "It's a public humiliation, yes, but it has been stymied. The press should go no further with it. "

She took a sip of the coffee. It was almost unbearably strong; just as Joe liked it. She grimaced but swallowed nonetheless.

"I don't understand."

"I phoned the website and I've supressed the story."

The mug nearly fell from her hands, "You can do that?"

"Mia," he said seriously, "I've always been the man for this kind of job. I've done it many times before and I'm sure I'll do it many times in the future."

She smiled as relief flooding her. At least now all she had to know was that Michael had cheated on her. It was a small mercy that she wouldn't have to face the wrath of the press, as long as the story hadn't existed long enough for it to be spread widely. Lily had phoned her, screaming how she would kill him, when she had discovered his indiscretion, and her first thought had been Joe.

"We fell out of love a while ago," she said suddenly.

He looked at her then, "You don't fall out of love. If you do, you were never in love in the first place."

It was rather blunt in its assessment but she had the feeling, the inking, that he knew what he was talking about.

"You're probably right," she shrugged, "I was stupid. I shouldn't have…"

"You don't have to explain it to me darling," he whispered, reaching out to brush her hair with his fingers.

"What if he tells someone?"

"Then I'll hunt him down," he said, "If Lily doesn't get him first."

She didn't doubt either of those things as being possible. His face was blank and unfeeling and if she hadn't loved Joe as she did, she might have been afraid of the darkness creasing his brow. Instead it brought her an unidentifiable comfort.

"Seriously though," he said, "He's not a bad kid. He did something stupid and he's probably regretting hurting you, if not ending it with you."

She shrugged, "it had ended. Neither of us wanted to say anything, more than it being sore to end it. I just wish he hadn't done this. Did it not occur to him how damaging it would be for me? I don't deserve that."

He chuckled a little and kissed her temple.

"What are you laughing at?"

He shook his head, "Nothing."

"You think I sound like grandma, right?"

"Very much like her, yes," he nodded.

"Are you missing her?"

"No," he shook his head.

"You're a terrible liar," she nudged him.

They never once spoke of the worst kept secret in Genovia. When they did dance around the subject, it was in seriously veiled terms and half-serious jokes.

"I'm really not," he stood up, "While you were asleep I took the liberty of speaking to the dean of the college. He has given you leave for two weeks – you're coming home. No questions."

She didn't even think of protesting, "I want to see grandma."

"I know," he nodded, "I am sure that a hug from her will solve it."

"I assumed you would know?"

He chucked a pillow at her head before he phoned to charter the plane.

She ran into her grandma's arms as they met at the door the following morning. There was no welcoming party, no security, only her grandmother. She stood at the top of the stairs elegant as ever but her posture betrayed her anxiety. When she came to the bottom she held open her arms and pulled Mia into them.

"Thank you for bringing her home," he grandmother said over her shoulder, "Thank you for fixing it."

"It's what I do, your majesty," he bowed.

"I know," she held her granddaughter still, "But it doesn't mean we shouldn't say thank you to you."

"I don't need thanks Clarisse," he said quietly, taking Mia entirely by surprise.

To hear him say her name always took her by surprise, even after all these years. It was the way, she imagined, in which he said it. The rolling of the 'r', as if he couldn't let it drop off the end of his tongue, the way his mouth curled around her name as if he were praying.

No one seemed to acknowledge the severity of it as Mia had.

"Thank you," Clarisse detached herself and went toward her Head of Security, who opened his arms to her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Despite it only being a brief hug, Mia averted her eyes anyway.

"Come on," her grandma motioned to the stairs, "My chambers."

She had never really given her grandma credit for knowing what she seemed to need but she realised she'd been doing it for a long time. There was a selection of screw-ball comedies, ice cream, candy and coke waiting for her. It made her laugh that there were pear tarts laid out on the table, and a tea pot and cups.

She dumped her stuff and settled on the big armchair, pulling the films towards her to decide what she wanted.

"Did you send out for these?"

"Of course," her grandmother laughed, "The last time I watched a film it was black and white."

She giggled and shot a look towards Joe, who nodded in affirmation. He was kicking off his shoes and pulling his blazer off.

"Are you staying?" Mia asked, smiling through her confusion.

"Only if you want me?"

"Always," she nodded, "You're my knight in shining…black."

Her grandmother laughed then, settling down on the couch with her paperwork on her lap.

"Grandma, you're not really going to work," Mia held up the DVD, "You'll miss this."

"Oh the horror," she responded dryly.

"Mia is right," Joe reached towards her and, to Mia surprise, pulled the work from her grandmother's hands with ease, "You could be doing with an afternoon off."

Mia literally held her breath, frightened for Joe as much as she was admiring of him.

Her grandma sighed and smiled, "I suppose I find myself defeated."

"I suppose you do," he agreed, setting the work down on the coffee table, "Tea, Clarisse?"

"Yes, Joseph," she leaned towards Mia then, and touched her knee, "It's good to have you home my darling."

"It's so good to be here," she whispered, tears chocking her voice.

To her surprise her grandmother pulled her against her in a hug, deft fingers stroking her hair.

"You are safe and you are home," she said softly.

Joe reached over and touched her face gently, "You know you can always come to me…to your grandmother…to us?"

She just nodded and let tears fall.

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 **Please review, as this isn't my typical voice or style and I'd like to know how I've done.**


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